


First

by M_Logolepsy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Genyatta Week 2016, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, break-down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8769259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Logolepsy/pseuds/M_Logolepsy
Summary: Overwatch fell six months ago. Genji left America to wander the world five months ago. Genji met Zenyatta two months ago and became his student a month and a half ago. Today, he breaks down in front of Zenyatta for the first time.





	

The day hadn’t started out well to begin with. Since he and Zenyatta had began their… thing… a month and a half ago, Zenyatta set out an entire day for meditation once a week.

 

“UGH.”

 

It didn’t usually go well.

“Genji, you need to clear your mind. It will be easier if you can find your patience,” Zenyatta reminds him.

 

It felt like the millionth time.

 

“I understand, Master, but it’s easier said than done,” Genji sighs, breaking from his position to lay with his stomach- lack of a stomach, he reminds himself- towards the sky.

 

Zenyatta doesn’t make a sound, but lays down next to him in the grass. The Nubani sky, unrelentingly blue stretched above them and green grass, still dewy from the morning, spread beneath them. The meadow should’ve been a wonderful and relaxing place. For Genji, though…

 

_His gi was still light blue; that shade that never stopped relaxing him- even now. It was like their childhood all over again, just another game that they were playing. Genji wasn’t having fun anymore._

 

He tore off his mask, staring up at the sky with his limited but organic vision.

 

“What’s on your mind, my student?”

 

“Nothing, I’m clearing it, remember?”

Zenyatta doesn’t respond. Genji hates when he does that because he just knows that it’s the perfect method to get him to reassess his answer to be more productive and honest and he hates how well Zenyatta is able to get that.

 

He doesn’t speak, and for a terrifying moment, Genji wants to beg him to. The silence is so long- _almost like his hair, it’s not usually left loose like that_ \- and oh, god, he can’t focus on anything besides the rising panic in his chest.

 

He tries again, fighting down the regret that threatens to force him to run away. He promised he wouldn’t do that. “My…”

 

_“Anija?”_

 

He forces it out in English, if only to fight off the memories threatening to spill over into the present. “My brother.”

 

Zenyatta makes a small noise, almost like breathing- _Genji’s chest was rising and falling faster and faster as the implication of exactly what Hanzo was doing hit him_ \- before turning to look at him. Genji stubbornly stares into the blue expanse above. If he wasn’t busy having a huge, record-breaking, PTSD-related panic attack, he’d probably make a comment about the irony. He couldn’t turn away.

 

_“You’ve turned away from the clan.”_

 

His voice was so, so real. Zenyatta was saying something (something like “You have a brother?”, maybe? Did he even know-) but Genji couldn’t hear him anymore. He sat up suddenly- _Hanzo lunged into action before he could feel anything_ \- clutching his chest and holding back retching- _clutching the bow with knuckles too white, skin too taught_ \- as he collapsed into himself.

 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He blinked once, and then again, taking a deep breath. He was laying across Zenyatta’s lap, the monk’s hand touching his cheek.

 

His- Oh.

 

If he was blushing a little bit, that was his own business.

 

“Back with me?” Zenyatta asked quietly.

 

Genji can’t figure out how to push through the slow mush that’s overwhelming his brain right now, but Zenyatta got the message. How could he always do that? It was so subtle, but he just knew that he was alive again and that he needed that feeling on his real skin to ground him, and… It felt nice. It felt like being loved.

 

Slowly, much later, he got his words back. “ ‘m sorry, it’s been a long time since I’ve…”

 

“Shut down like that?”

 

Genji nodded.

 

“It’s the first time you have in front of me. Would you… If you’re up to it, would you like to talk about it?”

 

He stared past his Master’s face towards the sky. “My brother… Hanzo. This blue was the same color as his dragon. He used to say mine looked like fresh grass.”

 

And for the first time, he talked about everything. Zenyatta listened, sometimes putting his hand against his face when something particularly tough was said.

 

He probably wasn’t the best storyteller- “Like, his ramen was shit, right? But he’s my brother, so I ate it. It made sense to, because- Oh, god, why am I crying right now over this?”- but he pushed through.

 

After he finished, Zenyatta hesitated. Genji, from his spot on his lap, now sitting up to look right at him, felt the easy air around the pair cease. Finally, the omnic said, “Pardon me, my student, but I believe, for the first time since becoming a teacher, I believe I would desperately like to fight someone.”

 

Genji laughed- a genuine, bright and loud belly laugh. He tumbled out of his seat into the grass behind him, tears leaving his eyes after several minutes. Zenyatta joined him, the pair giggling over something so serious as if it was hilarious.

 

It wasn’t a straight shot up from there, but that was the first time that, after his death, Genji ever felt whole.

**Author's Note:**

> part of genyatta week 2016! check me out on tumblr: stop-nerfing-this.tumblr.com


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